


You Don't Look The Same As When I Was Dreaming

by Morrigan2345



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan2345/pseuds/Morrigan2345
Summary: She would be fine, she’s always fine, and when she tells this to Frank he looks like he believes her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All spelling and grammar mistakes are mine!
> 
> Got the title from Out In The Way by Beach Fossils, it's a real good song!
> 
> This is, as the tag states, a sad one and very in the future and out of the grasp of the canon itself in general...

When Karen was younger she wanted to make movies, she’d look at how scenes were framed and how light would fall onto an actors face and would commit it all to memory.  During high school it was all she could think about, never would ask for a camera itself but she would dream of how it would feel and how she would tilt her own light slightly askew if she could.

Her goal, of course, was pushed aside for real life.  One day she got home and her father was gone and her brother was angry, and from then she would not dream about faceless characters in cliché shots but of their home away from the biting chill of Manhattan.  That isn’t to say she didn’t fall in love with the city, she was young and soft, there were people who didn’t know her or her family and they were nice. 

Her brother was still angry but it would be short lived.

She would be fine, she’s always fine, and when she tells this to Frank he looks like he believes her.

She can appreciate that about him; it’s probably why she doesn’t freak out when she sees him standing by her door.

“One night,” he says as she continues to not move, “my house was- broke in to-“

“Did they follow you-“

“No,” he seems, insulted, “I wouldn’t do that.” He pauses, “They took the dog- again.” And she sighs.

“Bastards.” And she’s shoving her key into the lock, he doesn’t pause outside for longer than he has to when all of a sudden he collapses on the couch, dropping a tattered duffle bag by his feet.  He lets a long groan out and, stupidly, it’s the first time she’s noticed an ever growing and darkening stain on his shirt. 

She stares at him as he tries to reach for his bag, when he fails to do so because of what she can only guess is a symptom of blood loss she rushes towards him.  Grabbing the bag and kneeling beside him she starts rummaging inside, “Jesus, I think a _hi_ and an _I’m bleeding_ would have been what you started with Frank.” She says, not as angry as she was expecting, as she bypasses what is probably a gun and pulls out the first aid kit she put in their months ago.

“I thought the dog thing would have let me in quicker.” He laughs, then coughs harshly, “There were some stragglers, answers were needed- bones were broken.”

There’s a lapse in the one sided conversation as she tries to assess the gash on his side, “It’s not superficial but it’s deep enough that it’s gonna leave a mark.  It probably hit something which is why you lost so much blood.” She tells him this, he stares at the celling above him but nods in acknowledgment, “I’m getting a towel.” She says and stands up before he can say anything or, most likely, nod again.

She washes her hands in the sink and watches the blood run down the drain because it’s more interesting then looking at the bags under her eyes, or the ever present blood shot eyes.  She drenches the hand towel and roughly strains as much water as she can out before she heads back to the living room.  He’s where she’s left him but his arm has moved over his face to cover his eyes.  He doesn’t twitch as she starts to rub away the excess blood and only grunts when she covers it with bandages.

She pauses as she’s getting up to look at him, “You were right.” She says and his fingers move, “About the dog, but I do have to keep up some moral footing here.” And it achieves what she wants, as he laughs lightly his hand slips away from his face and the wrinkles around his eyes crease in the way she will eternally remember and love.

“I think you lost some when you started cleaning up The Punisher’s messes.”

“I don’t clean up his messes, I clean _him_ up, there’s a difference.” She says, and her hands brush against his old, bruised face.

“I hate the name.” he says, still, probably, light headed and confused by the sudden loss of blood.

“We all do.” she says, tracing the lines that look deep enough to be scars.

“How is she?” he asks and lets her touch him and she grins slightly at his question.

“Good, really good.  Hates school, but who doesn’t?” she asks and he snorts, making her hand shift from where it was gliding down the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t.” He says and it’s her turn to laugh, quietly.

“Well she’s more mine than we thought.”

His eyes crack open and it’s been a while since she’s seen him this unburdened, “Thank God for small miracles.” He says and tries to sit up when she doesn’t respond.

She puts her hand up to stop him but he turns back to her, “I just wanted to see her, before I go.”

She shakes her head, “She’s sleeping Frank you’d have to wait for tomorrow morning, maybe drop her off with me.”

His forehead creases in that way she will eternally hate, “They stole something, Karen.  It’s a blueprint that Red left me, it-“

“It’s fine Frank.” She says, she makes sure that there’s not bitterness but there is a bite to it that she resents.  She wants to know what they stole but, it's the principle of the matter that keeps her mouth turned down.

“I’m sorry Karen.” He says and reaches out and she meets him half way, grabbing his hand as tight as he’s grabbing hers.

“Don’t.  You don’t have to, just know that we both love you.  That she looks forward to the dinners you’re here for but doesn’t hurt when you aren’t there, she’s smart, too much like her dad actually.” She says and his grip tightens.

“How about you?” he asks and they both wish he didn’t but she answers him.

“I’ll be fine.” She says and he nods, letting her hand slip out of his before he stoops down to get his bag.

“I’ve realized.” he says before he closes the door to the small apartment, looking down the dark hallway, almost like trying to see through the cheap wooden door on the far end.  There’s a small smile on his face but his words are sad.

She appreciates that about him, but wishes he could have seen it sooner.

Wishes, beyond everything that she was looking at her life through a lens; she’d be able to turn him around, maybe let the light from the hours-away sun break through the blinds and light up his ragged face.

Maybe if she was the director she would just have to change one thing and every misaligned piece would twist and bend and transform into a vision she’d put her name on.

In the end, her parents never got her a camera and Frank leaves her apartment without a sound.

When she wakes up in the morning she falls in love with him all over again as she listens to her daughter ramble, thanks whatever lucky stars she has and ushers her kid into the car before they’re late for school.

Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Cool, thank u for reading, if there are letters missing it's bc my keyboard is broken an like the left side of it hardly works lol
> 
> also i was gonna go a completely different way with this but the image of nameless li bby frankaren was Too Much and i had to


End file.
